From the writers at Dallas Morning News.
I’m rocketing down a two-lane country road outside Amarillo in the sidecar of a Russian army motorcycle. It’s nearly midnight, and we’re blasting through the hot, dry Panhandle darkness in search of a man named Bill who might have a tappet for a Buick straight-eight engine.
Miles behind us, flashlights and lanterns in a Holiday Inn parking lot illuminate scattered clusters of guys drinking beer and swearing as they wrestle with the innards of cars that could have been bought new by their great-grandfathers.
Sleep is still hours away, and the early morning will see us off on another leg of a 2,300-mile journey down the Mother Road from St. Louis to Los Angeles.
Just another day — and night — on the Great Race.
Since 1983, dozens of vintage cars and trucks have set out each year on this epic cross-country road rally, held annually in a different part of the country. This year, more than 115 vehicles paid the $5,000 entry fee to join the trip down fabled Route 66 during the last week of June.
It’s a rolling museum of America’s auto heritage. Each morning, the caravan heads west through weather that grows hotter by the day, reaching a high of 118 degrees in the Arizona desert. Each evening around dinnertime, it pulls into a town along the historic highway for an overnight stop.
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